


Promise of Vengeance

by Auriana Valoria (AuriV1)



Series: The Rose and Her Warden [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 05:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuriV1/pseuds/Auriana%20Valoria
Summary: Cousland has nightmares, and this time, they aren't about the Archdemon.





	Promise of Vengeance

Elisabet shivered in Alistair’s arms, and it wasn’t from the cold.

Her convulsive movements broke him out of his light slumber, and he felt his brow furrow as she continued to shake, grunting in her sleep. He passed a hand gently over her arm, and the sleeve of her cotton nightdress clung to her damp skin. That simple gesture caused her to jerk awake with a gasp, her silvery-grey eyes popping wide open and shining in the sliver of moonlight that filtered through the gap in the tent flaps.

“ _Shh_ , _shh_ , love,” he said softly to calm her, “It’s all right…it was just a dream.”

She craned her neck backwards to see his face, her gaze flicking over his features in the dark as if to reassure her that he was real, and that the dream was indeed over. He watched her intently for a moment, wondering what it was that had frightened her so. It hadn’t been the usual Archdemon dreams…if it had, he would have shared in that nightmare. No, this was something else.

Her eyelids drooped, sliding heavily closed, and a silent tear leaked out of the corner of her nearest eye.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Alistair’s arm, the one draped around her waist, pulled her tighter against his chest. “Don’t cry, my dear.” He kissed the tear away, but she didn’t smile, opening her eyes again and staring into his.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she finally croaked.

“It’s all right, it’s not your fault,” he reassured, pressing another kiss to her dark brown hair. After a moment, he added, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She looked away for a long time, as if contemplating whether or not she should burden him with her thoughts. Then, very quietly, she whispered.

“I keep going back there…back home. When my family was… _murdered_. I keep seeing their faces. I keep seeing Father,” her voice broke, and more tears slid freely down her cheeks. “I keep thinking if I had just moved faster, I could have saved them…”

Alistair’s heart broke at her words, and he understood all too well how she felt. She was battling the same feelings he had harbored after Duncan’s death and even now struggled to reason through.

“I failed them, Alistair.”

“Lis, _no_ …you didn’t fail anyone…”

She broke down into sobs, then, turning towards him and curling into his chest. He silently pulled her quaking form ever tighter against him, holding her as she cried her eyes out. His fingers stroked through her loose hair in slow, soothing motions, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head in gentle, comforting kisses until her sobbing at last began to ebb.

“I swear to the Maker, Alistair,” she said at length, her voice heavy with emotion as it vibrated through his chest, “if I ever get my hands on Arl Howe, there will be _nothing_ left to burn.”

He tucked her head under his chin as she sniffled loudly, replying simply, “I know, Elisabet. I know.”

And he did. Elisabet had made a promise of vengeance long ago. And if he knew Elisabet like he thought he did, he knew she would see it through. It was just a matter of time.


End file.
